


And Then There Were Four.

by orphan_account



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Boy-pussy, Connor is a little awkward, Connor's Siblings, Eating out, F/F, F/M, Gore, Hate crimes against androids, He means well though, Honestly this fic's gonna be a mess, M/M, Major body horror, Mute!Android, Now they work as their own little investigative team for DPD, Overstimulation, Paranoia, RK300 is like a fucking shark okay, Riding, There are three other RK prototypes, They were freed, This is just something for therapeutic reasons, all androids are kinky fucks, but not really, but this isn't just about sex, chase scenes, heavy descriptions of violence, run while you can, size kinks, technically speaking one of them is trans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-14 20:50:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17515682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It has been exactly two weeks, three days and seventeen hours since President Warren granted basic human rights to all androids still active after the revolution. The government had forged a contract with CyberLife to stop continued production of androids until further notice, and to free any androids in their possession. What this contract meant for the D.P.D,unfortunately,  was that they were suddenly assigned three failed prototypes of the RK series.





	And Then There Were Four.

The unfortunate side effect of whisky, Hank was to learn young, is that it absolutely despises the human race. The throbbing in his skull wasn't so much of a comfort per say as a familiarity; although Connor had seen fit to constantly inform Hank what his habits had on both his physical and mental health with the goal of bringing the number of blackouts from four a week to three, then two, then one every harsh case when Hank felt he needed a break. Still, all that gave no support to him as of now, while he trudges into the bullpen with a black coffee in hand and a pair of extra strength sunglasses placed atop his head.   

The receptionist at the front desk was a small Asian girl, the android before her having quit the moment the revolution started. She waved him through with a small smile, the synthetic glitter resting on her cheeks shining purple in the mid-morning light. He gave a half-hearted wave back as he passes through the large clear doors. Fowlers glass walls were blacked out for the first time in months which sent a beat of a paranoia through Hank's spine. The last time his walls were blacked out, he had tried to assign Reed and Hank together as partners on a homicide case a few years back.  

"Good morning Lieutenant." 

Connor chirps from his seat, hands placed neatly on the desk, no longer cleared of any mess or clutter besides his neatly stacked folders and his terminal, but with little things like a potted cactus, and a photo of himself and Hank when he finally managed to get an official badge, Hank holding his name plate over his head and an arm slung around Connor shoulders. They both seem incredibly happy, Connors cheeks splitting into a grin that made his eyes light like a fire. It was Hanks favorite picture. 

“Yeah, Yeah, mornin'." 

Was the muttered response. Connor frowned slightly at that, his eyebrows wrinkling and mouth turning down slightly. He opens his mouth to start another thread of conversation before his eyes twitched violently; once, twice. 

"Lieutenant, Captain Fowler has just asked to see the both of us in his office." 

Hank threw his hands up in the air dramatically, wanting to just sink into his chair and not get up until the end of the day. 

"Fucken' Christ, come on then. Let's get this over with."  

Having not been sitting in his chair for even a minute also helped to sour his day, even at ten in the fucking morning. He trudged his way to Fowlers, sunglasses forgotten back at his desk and cheap, burnt coffee getting even colder with every wasted moment. He knocked on the glass three times and pushed the door open when Fowler Called them in. Hank dragged himself in slowly as Connor, as usual, walked in briskly behind him and closed the door shut softly. He meant to turn back around and sit himself next to where he knew Hank would be; instead, he ran face first into the back of the lieutenant.  

"Fowler, what in the fresh fuck is goin' on?" 

Connor had to side step his way from Hank, and froze right next to him. There were three other androids in the room; the three he had helped out of the testing room in CyberLife. From a quick scan, (That he knew wasn't necessary but at this point it's a comfortable habit) they all seemed to be the failed prototypes of the RK series. One was tall, taller than everyone else in the room, with wide shoulders and a strong jaw. He had the same hair style as Connor; seemed to be entirely styled in his image, as a matter of fact. This second Connor had his hands behind his back, posture rigid and tense. He was scanning Connor as well, brow furrowed and steely eyes intense in their stare.  

He had two other androids behind him, and as Fowler began speaking, seeming to explain everything to Hank, Connor made to slowly approach the three. The largest flicked his eyes over to Hank before letting them rest back on the advancing android. 

"Hello, my name is Connor. I'm the android who helped you back at CyberLife; I'm glad to see you've made it." 

The largest one seemed apprehensive, but returned the smile Connor had given him, albeit a bit more strained and stressed. The two hiding behind him reared their heads around his arm, two pairs of bright green eyes staring straight up into his own brown ones.   

"Jeffrey, what in the ever-loving fuck is goin' on?" 

Hank's face was flushed slightly, hands leaning on Fowler's desk and his stress levels elevated. 

"The contract President Warren just signed with CyberLife stated that any androids with a designated purpose were allowed to choose; either be sent to their pre-destined location, or were to go out on their own with a government salary until they found a sustaining workplace. These three, -" 

here he gestures to where Connor was conversing quietly with the three new additions, 

"-decided to continue their purpose of police work. Thank god for that too, since more than half of the work force left when the revolution started. We've been stretched thin as it is, Hank. You've become very close with Connor; you work together very well and I believe another few additions to the work force would be beneficial to us."  

The tallest android seemed intimidating, but once Connor started to converse with him, he was surprisingly friendly. 

"We are few of the original RK models and prototypes. I am a RK300, I was the first prototype, and had only completed one mission of studying deviancy until I myself became ‘compromised’. The researchers at CyberLife decided to keep me active, and study my programming to decipher what exactly had caused the malfunction." 

Connor nodded slightly in understanding, watching as the two behind him finally stepped forward, to greet Connor.   

They looked almost the exact same: mirrored hair styles, facial features, body structure; the only difference they had was their little moles. they each had one mole under their eyes, one on the left and the other had it on the right. 

"My name is Richard. This is Alex," The one on his left, "And this is Thomas." The one on his right. "They were the RK900’s designed after your first mission, the one with the deviant on the rooftop."   

Flashes of blue blood, screams, pleads for help, a child’s life - _"You lied to me Connor."_    

"CyberLife was planning to launch them following your initial deactivation after the completion of your previous missions concerning deviants, but that didn't go as planned."  

They were small in stature, barely reaching five foot five, with curly brown hair that flew out all over the place. Pale skin and a thin frame made to lull their opponents and suspects into a false sense of security. Connor smiled down at them slightly, holding a non-threatening hand out with the intentions of a greeting. 

"I'm happy to know you all three got out of CyberLife in time." 

Alex stepped forward and shook his hand excitedly; his young, boyish features breaking out into a wide grin. Thomas had followed suit, a little less enthusiastic than his twin. They all three still had their LED's, but at least they were out of their issued uniforms and all dressed in simple button ups and dress pants.  

"Captain Fowler has offered us a place as detectives, here in the DPD. He is currently assigning us partners, and is asking Lieutenant Anderson to 'take us under his wing' until he manages to find us people to work with." 

Connor flinched slightly when Hank slammed his hands on the desk violently, causing Richard to tense and the twins to jump. 

"What the fuck Jeffrey? First your piling all the android shit on me, now your throwing ACTUAL fuckin' androids at me? I work well with Connor, and only Connor." 

 Fowlers face was twisted up into a grimace, his face flushed as he screams back at Hank,  

"I don't give a flying fuck what you want and don't want. You will do as I'm telling you and you'll shut the fuck up while you're doing it. Now get the fuck out of my office."   

The level of tension in the room was almost visible, and as Hank stomped out of the office door Connor offered a reassuring smile to the three behind him before following Hank down the stairs, the other androids hot at his heels. They all trailed off to follow him to his desk, and waited next to his chair as he flopped down into it. 

"Okay, okay.... There are plenty of free desks around the bullpen, and all the files on android involvement can be found on your terminal."  

Hank sounded stressed, and his blood pressure was steadily rising with every tense second. They all looked a bit out of place, a bit awkward; so before Hank could have something of a meltdown Connor directed them somewhere else. 

 "Here, there are three desks right over in the corner. I will send you three all current files in my system momentarily." 

Connor pointed over to the free area to his direct left with a placating smile.  

"Why they still stickin' with each other? You'd think they'd want a little, I don't know, alone time after being together for who knows how long."  

Hank had finally calmed down enough. That’s good. Connor glanced back to the three, who all were huddled in their own little corner of the bullpen. 

"The three of them have been together for most of their existence; they all have been keeping each other safe through the experiments and tests of CyberLife. If I were in their shoes, I wouldn't want to be seaperated either."   

It took all but a millisecond to send them the necessary files needed for their current investigations. For a moment, they’re all connected in a ring of information; a constant hum of existence in their quick exchange of knowledge, codes, and evidence. With every moment the interface had connected the four of them another memory was shared. Interfacing, Connor mused, isn’t just a mutual sharing of what you know. It’s also a way to show others what you have experienced and lived through to help further the possibility of success. Connor could see through their eyes as memories flashed behind his own; he was stuck in the testing room for days on end, being taken apart piece by piece while still activated, watching others being strapped to a machine and forced into activation while they’re being ripped apart.   

The exchange was over in mere moments, and Connor sent a smile over to the three before opening his own terminal. 

“We’ve gotten almost three new cases with every day that passes by. The DPD doesn’t have enough people to send out for every case, and the only people left are five first responders, three detectives, you, lieutenant, and four androids. Captain Fowler has asked you to keep track of Alex, Thomas, and Richard but he may end up pairing them off to others to help keep the workload manageable in the near future. “  

Currently, there were twenty-three files in android homicide including hate crimes, break ins, kidnappings, torture, and an attempted terrorist attack on Markus’ last meeting with president Warren. The most recent case came in late last night, and it has turned from simple homicide into a suspected serial killer. Connor has downloaded all current information on the case and has reviewed it three times before standing up.   

“There was a new case assigned to us late last night, possible linking into a serial killing. The body was found last night at 1204 Winter street. We should head out.” 

Hank groaned, ran his hand down his face roughly and forced himself to his feet. 

“Alright. Those three, back seats.” 

Hank makes his retreat to the exit swiftly, not checking if the four androids he now worked with were following.  

  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

  

The ride there was tense, uncomfortable, and quiet. The only noise being the rumble of the engine and the faint buzz of Hank’s broken radio. The three were huddled close in the back, no space between them as they leaned into each other. They weren’t so much individuals as much as they were extensions of the same thoughts, feelings, and hopes. Connor hopes he can find something like that with someone; maybe one of these days, he could.   

“If you could take a quick right here, Lieutenant.” 

  Hank grumbles out a few curses as he turns into a bakery shop’s parking lot, rubbing at his eyes violently as Connor steps out of the car, breaking into a brisk pace as he exits. Hank sags back into his seat with a huff, discretely looking into his rear-view mirror to the three in the back.  

“So,” Hank starts, “Do one of you three feel like telling me what exactly your story is or are we just going to ignore this?”  

The largest one seemed to hesitate, his hulking frame taking up more than Hanks own presence could. He was hunched in the back while the two smaller ones leaned into his sides; they were barely even there, smothering themselves into his flanks. 

“We had been held captive in CyberLife testing facilities in the main tower for an overall estimate of three months and two weeks before Connor had come and freed us.  

“I was one of the first RK300 prototypes in our series; I had completed exactly one mission involving one of the first android murders in records. A drug dealer had bought a YK500 model. He had repeatedly abused him, both physically, mentally, and sexually. The boy managed to find another deviant wondering the streets one night and attempted to run away. He did not make it very far before he had been spotted by his owner of the time; the owner attempted to kill the deviant android and retake his YK500. The deviant strangled the man and fled. Three weeks later he and the YK500 had been found and neutralized by myself.   

“It was at that moment- in a dingy apartment complex drenched with the blood of my own people, the people I had just slaughtered- when I pondered what I was doing. They felt fear when I had gunned them down, they felt joy when they managed to escape, they felt worry while they ran. I took what little hope they had when I aimed my gun and fired; I felt. Disappointment. In myself, in my creators, in the universe I was thrown into.   

“When technicians found my reactions to the external stimuli odd, they decided to keep me activated for every experiment they conducted. And every day I would go through something different, to help them improve their defense against what they dubbed ‘deviancy.’”   

Hank sat there, in the thick silence of his response. 

“I’ve realized in my time,” he began slowly, “that humans are horrible. They cheat, they lie, they do disgusting things, and I've gone through life seeing this almost every single day.” 

The android behind him grunted his rough agreement. 

  

“But I’ve also seen the best in people. You can't find it outright; you won't be able to see the best in someone every moment of every day. You see it in the little acts they do through their lives. When they help someone else, with no expectations of receiving anything in repayment; and I’ve noticed that bleeds into androids. You can't take back what you’ve done, but you can make amends with yourself and other innocent people in the future. “  

It was then Connor returned, a bagel in one hand and coffee cup in the other. He yanked the door open with his foot and stepped in his seat, holding the items out to Hank all in one swift motion. 

“Oh god Connor you’re a life saver.”  

Hank accepts the items graciously, taking a mouthful of just right coffee and a bite of bagel before putting the car into drive. 

“Quite literally, as of recently.”  

Connor remarked as Hank took another gulp of coffee as they pull back onto the street. The air was much less tense, less like ‘the air has been replaced by butter' and more like ‘you can actually breath without suffocating.’  

They pulled up to the scene within a minute, Hanks bagel gone and coffee joining it with a final gulp. Connor let himself out first; Alex, Thomas, and Richard following him out. Chris, one of the few workers of the DPD who stayed after the revolution, greeted them with a smile and the debriefing.   

“Well well, we all thought you wouldn’t show until at least one.” 

Chris greeted Hank before turning back into the doorway to the run-down home. 

“Just like the last four, the body has been dismembered and set up here. No traces of DNA, no murder weapons found or traced. They body is fresh; the blood is still visible.   

“She had been dismembered, gutted, and spread out through the house. Our search team has found a torso, both legs, a hammer drenched in that blue blood stuff, her heart, and an arm.” 

Chris lead them all through to the Living room, covered in evidence markers and all hands currently available for investigations. The smell of rotten wood and mold assaulted Connor’s senses; he’s sure if he were human he would have gagged. Chris covered his nose with his clip board and excused himself. 

“I’ve got to get some air or something; make yourselves at home." 

He turned, grabbing Hanks upper arm and muttering something in his ear before he left.  

“Aw Christ.” 

Hank sagged slightly, shoulders sinking down as he hung his head before pulling himself back together. 

“Reed’s here.” 

Connor felt his eyes roll before he could stop them, another bad habit he has picked up from the lieutenant.  

"I will begin with a scan in the living room, and you all may explore to your hearts content." 

Connor watched as they all nodded in sync before they spread out; Richard made his way to the top floor where all the bedrooms were at, Alex sank through to the kitchen, and Thomas slunk down to the basement.  

Connor ran a scan through the thirium left on the ground; AP600, registered to have gone missing three days ago. Connor brought up the floor plans of the house for a search. In every other case they had, the head and thirium pump were the only body parts to have a consistent placing; their thirium pump would be shoved into the fireplace and the head would be found in the- 

 **_"Basement. I found the victims head in the basement."_ ** 

A voice rang through his head, seemingly from an unseen connection between himself and Thomas. 

Thomas stepped out from the basement entrance and was holding the victims head in his hands gently, his thumb running over where their eyes have been bashed inwards, dents and scrapes surrounding the sockets. Thomas’ LED swirled yellow for only a moment before Connor could hear the footsteps of Richard descending the stairs behind him. Connor had heard the message, however faint it seemed to have been-  

 ** _“I found something”_**   

   
And it seems to connect him, Richard, Alex and Thomas in a circle, a continuous stream of code starting to infiltrate his senses. 

“You too?” 

Richard held the victims' left arm in his hands, rips and dents around the wrist and multiple holes had been drilled in through the limb. 

“It seems the victim was nailed to something to hold them down, as well as restrained; most likely to keep them controlled as they were transported from the area they were kidnapped to the location of murder. “  

Connor winced ever so slightly, such a small action no human could notice; just a small twitch of his eye. Alex seemed to have taken note though, and placed a small hand on his arm briefly before turning to Richard. 

"Given how fresh the thirium is, we might be able to search the area, maybe even find traces of the suspect." Alex suggested, but Hank shook his head. 

"It'd be a waste of resources; we don't have enough men for that, and even if we did the suspect leaves no traces outside of the house. Not even a drop of DNA or anything." 

Connor's LED spins red, unknowingly sending a bundle of thoughts and coding through the connection between himself and the other three androids around him. They felt his thought process, followed his pattern; their LED’s spun red as well. 

"Or maybe," he starts slowly, "The suspect has no DNA to leave." 

Hank looks to him for a moment before speaking. 

"What you're saying, is that we might have an android serial killer on our hands?" 

Connors LED still spins red. 

"What I'm saying is that it's almost physically impossible for a human to be able to both rip and androids head off without damaging themselves in the process. A human wouldn't be able to sneak up on five androids in a row; these crimes have been happening with a frequency of every other day, Hank. No human has enough strength and stamina to keep something like that up without faltering somewhere." 

 At that moment, Reed stepped in. His eyes were sunken in and a cup of coffee was in his hands; he smelled like four day old sweat and stress. He looked their way, took a double take towards Richard with his strong jaw and sharp, glinting teeth and balked. 

"Who decided to bring the toaster squad in? I thought you people would be out investigating spooky noises and bumps in the night, not a genuine murder." 

Reed, who was still rude, childish, and egotistical seemed to have warmed up to Connor; just as everyone else in the DPD has. He didn't mess with Connor any more than he did with everyone else, and has even helped him on certain cases with a little bit of reluctance. Before Connor could retort with anything, Richard spoke up. 

"If they let irritating toddlers in the form of an adult in, they would let us in." 

Reed balks as Richard gives a sharp, glinting smile before walking past him.  

Connor could hear the violent sputtering of the detective, and when he turned to look, he saw the bright red flush trailing up from his neck and onto his face. 

“Uh-oh,” he muttered. “Seems like you’ve put yourself on the detectives' bad side.” 

“I feel as if putting myself in his good graces is the smallest of my priorities.” Richard remarked with a tilt of his head towards Reed. 

The large room they were standing in seemed to have been an office when the house was last inhabited. The desk was broken, shattered into dozens’ of pieces across the hard-wood floor. Bookshelves were rotting and falling apart and the paintings on the wall melted off long ago.  

The ceiling was scattered across the floor, plaster turned into something akin to mud, thanks to the humid environment of mid-fall Detroit. The beams above Connor’s head creaked with stress from something; most likely an animal scattering across them. 

Something above him moved; was scuffed against, or bumped into. It was loud enough to capture his attention, and he looked up. 

Right into a pair of green eye’s glowing in the dark of the room. 


End file.
